Okay, I’ve been mulling this over for a while now, but I still haven’t been able to figure it out.
Everytime Ichigo’s will to survive and fight is greater than the extent his body can take, Ichigo’s inner hollow and/or Zangetsu have always intervened, right?
So, how come when Ulquiorra did this:
And Ichigo is pretty much dead, right, how come his Inner Hollow did not, at the very least, take over his body? Was it because he had just heard that Rukia could possibly be dead?
Or was he still trying to save alive?
I mean, I don’t really think he was alive, guy looked pretty damn dead to me, and I’m only partly implying an Ichiruki thing, but this is seriously something I’m confused about. Like, even if Ichigo decided, internally, that he didn’t wanna fight because Rukia was dead, then how come, since Ichigo gave up and let his guard down, his Inner Hollow didn’t take over? This is a huge thing, I think, that was glossed over.
But listen, Rachel, if you had absolutely no choice, you HAD to pick between Dwalin living or Fili, Kili, AND Thorin all making it out alive, what would you do? I mean like you have absolutely no choice. You can't save them all. You can't bring anyone back to life. It's either Dwalin or ALL three of the Durins, which also includes Bilbo's happiness as well okay. Don't forget about that.
do you honestly want me to delete my blog, is this honestly your goal Mal, with these questions, with this “““scenario,”” are you trying to end me,, are you, do you,
Harry:*talking with louis over the phone* Guess what I got to hold today.
Louis:Here we go.
Harry:Why does she get to have a bambino? Huh? I want an infant. Why won't you let us have a neonate. I want-no. I neeeeeeeeed one NOW. Next time I see you, you better have an overgrown sperm in your arms looking exactly how I described it in the presentation I gave you last week.*hangs up*
Dean/Cas | 5,150 | Mature | Staying at the same motel AU
The air conditioner breaks just as the weatherman starts predicting
temperatures in the high nineties.
Almost instantly the motel room drops into Hell-like temperatures,
stuffy and burning-hot. Castiel sits up from where he’s sprawled out on the
faded bedspread and glares at the unit as it fights for its last ounce of
strength. It gives up with a clatter.
With a sigh, Castiel pulls himself off the bed. He drops to the floor on
his knees and begins unscrewing the cheap metal covering. Sweat drips down his
back as he fights to get the panel off, but inside it’s just a mess of wires
and dust and he has no idea what he’s doing. He rubs at his eyes and leaves the
panel on the floor.